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As you die there in agony, brother,
Don’t be calling your comrades in vain.
Let me warm my hands on your body,
Make good use of the blood from your veins.
Stop crying, stop groaning, don’t be a…
[ . . . ]
I never loved properly . . .
A little Judaic boy,
I was the only one around
To shiver in the steppe wind at night.
Like a sleepwalker, I walked along tram tracks
To silent summer cottages…